


Brothers Don't Shake Hands, Brothers Gotta Hug

by aliassmith



Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 07:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliassmith/pseuds/aliassmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey just doesn’t know when to quit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers Don't Shake Hands, Brothers Gotta Hug

Mikey’s giggling. Honest to God giggling. Not a manly chuckle or a snorting-laugh or even that gulping/choking sound he usually makes when he thinks he’s just said something hilarious, but... Nope, definitely a giggle.

Gerard thinks there’s a slim possibility he should be concerned, maybe throw out a catchphrase or two about ‘psychological health’ and ‘spontaneous breakdowns’, but this is _Mikey_ , and any speeches Gerard might have up his sleeve about mental wellbeing probably should have been made years ago. Like, ‘before that time with the *NSYNC t-shirt and the seven kimonos’ years ago. The giggling thing was weird, sure, but then so was Mikey. Gerard tossed him a look that he hoped said as much before climbing into his bunk, reaching for his iPod to drown out the snores already coming from Frank’s side of the bus.

The track that starts playing masks the snores and the giggling alright, but Gerard’s pretty sure this isn’t the album he downloaded yesterday. Make that _completely_ sure. No way he downloaded anything that sounds like a cross between spoken-word beat poetry and some kind of breathy voicemail message. Wait, did this thing just say his name? Gerard tapped the volume up a few levels, listening harder. There it was again. His iPod was not only talking at him now, but talking about him. Him and... Mikey, apparently. And... Bob? And wait, what was that? Mikey was doing what to his _what_? WHAT?!

“WHAT?!” Gerard ripped the buds from his ears, flailing around like he’d just been attacked. Which he totally had. His iPod was possessed by porn. Porn about him. And his _brother_. WHAT THE HELL?

Mikey’d stopped his giggling, thank God, but only because he was _cackling_ now. Insane, mad-scientist cackling. Also there was some rolling around and slapping-his thigh involved.

“You--” he gasped, mid-cackle, “Your face!”

Gerard had no doubt how his face must look right now. “YOU did this?”

Mikey paused and looked up like he might be able to say something through the massive grin plastered across his face. He lasted all of two and three-quarter seconds before he was snorting and cackling again. “...FACE!” he gurgled.

“What is wrong with you, man? This is... it’s... what is wrong with you?” Gerard threw his iPod at Mikey’s head then immediately thought the better of it—who knew what the guy would put on there next. He threw himself after it, pouncing on Mikey’s bunk where Mikey was curled up in a ball, shaking and crying and laughing so hard it had to hurt. Gerard retrieved his iPod from under his brother’s head and sulked the three steps back to his own bunk where he muffled Frank’s snores and Mikey’s sniggering by shoving a pillow over his head. He really should’ve gotten in earlier with that ‘mental-stability’ lecture.

So that was the first time. Really, Gerard was kidding himself if he thought it’d be the last.

It took about four days before it happened again, but it wasn’t the iPod this time. No, he’d pretty much sworn off anything involving pre-recorded music and headphones for a good long while. The second time, it was a bunch of paragraphs printed in between the lines on his lyric sheet. He almost had to give Mikey props for this one-- it had to have taken ages to type up and reprint everything, but the fact that he almost sang the line “woah woah woah yeah, _oh god right there cried Mikey grinding down against Gee’s heavy cock_ ” in front of Ray and Frank and everybody... Yeah. So definitely not cool.

It didn’t end there either, even after Gerard started retaliating with hair-dye in Mikey’s shampoo bottle and tubs of sour yoghurt spread between his sheets. No matter what he did, somehow Mikey still managed to follow him around with an endless supply of surprise!porn. And it was seriously starting to get to him. Not get to him get to him (although really, if there’s a guy out there who can face down a never-ending attack of blow-jobs and finger-fucking and _yes fuck so close so close harder god do it_ , even if it’s only in writing or playing on repeat over the bus speakers, then, well... they’re a stronger man than Gerard) but, just... he’d had enough okay?

And Gerard had a plan for this. He did. He was going to put an end to all the porn by very calmly and very quietly lighting everything Mikey owned on fire. Simple, right? Right. Except that when he went out to buy the necessary supplies for his little impromptu bonfire, dumping everything on the register and pulling out his wallet to pay, he found that all his bills had been replaced with cut-outs of some very graphic images of him and Mikey, plus one or two of Bob (Again? Why did Bob keep coming into this?) that had obviously been put together by someone who knew their way around photoshop and probably could do with the number of several different therapists.

Gerard ended up leaving the store with a cloud of defeat trailing behind him. He was going to have to give in, give up, yield. Tell Mikey he’s won and let him have his five minutes of glory hounding or gloating or whatever it was he’s been in this for. Or...

Or he could just not do any of that.

The wallet thing was pretty superior, sure, and Mikey probably figured he’s got Gerard beat with it, but that’s only because Gerard’s been refusing to really play this game with him. Up ‘til now at least.

Mikey may be the pranking god these days, but that’s only because he’s never had any real competition. Well. Gerard figures it’s about time that changed.

Mikey’s two steps through the door when Gerard launches himself at him, grabbing his head in his hands and yanking him forward into a hard, almost bruising kiss. Mikey doesn’t pull back or flail or even move, he just freezes and waits for Gerard’s mouth to leave his with a parting nip to his bottom lip, and then he stands there, stunned into silence with his jaw working but no sounds coming out.

Gerard can’t help himself. He bursts out laughing.

“Your face!” he wheezes, pointing, and Mikey does this thing with his mouth that makes him look like a dying goldfish.

“Admit it, dude. I owned you.” Gerard smirks as soon as he can breathe again.

“You... what?” Mikey gapes at him. “That was... You... You’re wrong in the head, you know that?”

And Gerard has a comeback for that, he really does, but godamn it, he can not stop giggling.


End file.
